


Waves

by janescott



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Challenge: shoot_the_curl, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the shoot_the_curl fic challenge on LJ. Prompt was "lazy Sunday morning" from paleogymnast</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine. Fan fiction for fun only :-)

The first thing Danny registers when he wakes up is that the other half of the bed is empty.

Surfing he thinks, his mind still muzzy as he blinks at the alarm clock until the numbers make sense. He has a tense moment of oh fuck we’re late before his brain kicks into a slightly higher gear.

Sunday. It’s Sunday. And it’s a rare, precious day off, and of course the first thing Steve has to do is go surfing because god forbid the ocean might not be there tomorrow … Danny shakes his head before his mental rant can get a good head of steam, because it’s Sunday morning in fucking paradise, he’ll have Steve all to himself when he gets back from communing with nature or whateverthefuck (Steve had explained his deep love of surfing to Danny once. Danny had fallen asleep halfway through the diagrams and Steve has never let him hear the end of it.)

Danny rolls to his back and spreads his arms out, just because he can. Steve’s like an octopus when he sleeps; his arms and legs curled around Danny like he’s scared he’s going to disappear.

No chance of that, Danny thinks, idly waving his arms in imitation of making a snow angel. He’s a goner, as the saying goes. Done. Finished. Finito. This is it. Steve is it.

Like he’s been summoned by Danny’s thoughts alone, Steve appears in the doorway of the bedroom. He’s naked apart from a towel that he’s rubbing up and down his long torso and lean legs in a manner completely designed to distract.

“You’re back,” Danny says, unnecessarily, letting his eyes follow the path of the towel and imagining following it with his tongue over Steve’s neck, his chest, licking at his flat, muscled abdomen …

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his mobile mouth twists up in a quick grin as he drops the towel to the floor before climbing on to the bed and straddling Danny’s hips, trapping him under the tangled sheet.

“And I put coffee on. Should be ready by the time-”

Steve tastes like salt and the sea. He always tastes like salt and the sea; like they’ve become embedded into his skin over the years and it took Danny about five seconds after he kissed him the first time to realise just how addicted he was to the taste. To Steve.

They kiss in the unhurried, lazy Sunday morning way of people who have nowhere else to be, and nothing they’d rather be doing. There’s a stripe of sun across Steve’s back, shading his skin a deeper colour. Danny splays his hand over it, pressing his fingertips into the warmth.

He can smell the coffee percolating now, the scent drifting up the stairs. He closes his eyes and drops an arm across them as Steve starts to move; making his way slowly down Danny’s body and marking favourite spots with his tongue and sometimes his teeth. Danny murmurs something soft and inarticulate as Steve pushes aside the tangled sheets, slowly taking Danny’s cock into his mouth. Danny groans and arches his hips as Steve starts sucking, setting up a slow pace that’s just on the right side of teasing, so Danny relaxes back on to the bed and lets the feel of Steve’s mouth - warm and wet - carry him away and over the edge.

When he’s recovered his equilibrium, he returns the favour, savouring the weight and taste of Steve’s cock in his mouth and over his tongue. Steve’s quiet but not silent; words falling on the quiet air of the warm room like tiny benedictions.

He swallows as much as he can when Steve comes, chasing the elusive taste of him and pushing it to all the corners of his mouth with his tongue.

They lie sated and content on the bed, watching the progress of the morning sun around the room. The smell of coffee fills the house as they idly bicker about who’s going to get up to make it.

In the end, they both move; Steve unable to keep still for long, and Danny feeling gritty under his skin now; like Steve’s brought half the beach back with him from his morning surf.

“Shower, babe?” he asks as he stretches and winces when his bad knee pops.

Steve stretches and yawns, wide. “Sure. You can wash my back for me.”

Danny pushes his tongue against the back of his teeth as his eyes fall to the curve of the small of Steve’s back.

Worse ways to spend a day off, he thinks, as he follows Steve to the bathroom, his eyes fixed on the ass that - in Danny’s opinion - should have sonnets written about it, it’s such a thing of fucking beauty.

“Sure. But you’re getting the coffee.”


End file.
